


Affection

by wcdarling



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Asexual Character, Asexual Relationship, Asexual!Garak, Asexuality, Asexuality Spectrum, Cardassia, Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, Gray-Asexuality, M/M, Platonic Relationships, Post-Canon, Post-Canon Cardassia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-01-23 03:28:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 17,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18541348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wcdarling/pseuds/wcdarling
Summary: After three years on Cardassia together, Garak and Julian have become... lovers? They weren't sure what to call their bond, but   their love is strong. They might never have come together had not Julian been so desperate to cool off in the Cardassian heat.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first longer DS9 fic I'm attempting in some time, so bear with me. I wrote a saga a couple of year ago and since then have only delivered a couple of shorter works.
> 
> As noted in the tags, "Affection" will feature an asexual Garak who manages a relationship with Bashir. I'm asexual myself so I hope to do a good job with this.
> 
> If you want to see chapters come out at reasonable speed, leave comments.

For early spring, it was wonderfully warm, thought Garak as he basked in a chair in the garden. The winter had reached lows that made him shudder — literally and figuratively. The faster he could escape memories of those chilly days, the better.

Funny that back on the station, he’d only ever thought of Cardassia as warm. He’d built a fantasy of steady heat, without drafts or harsh winds. The idealism of an exile. After three years, he was still faintly surprised, and sometimes annoyed, by the reality of the weather on his home planet. Who could blame him? He’d spent enough time being cold, thank you very much.

Of course, Julian’s take on this was completely different. From his human perspective, winters on Cardassia were a welcome relief. It was the only time of year Julian didn’t have to cut back his hair or carry water with him everywhere he went. He loved the freedom. 

Garak’s enjoyment of the sun had come after a satisfying session of gardening. The perennials were already reawakening, leaves greening up, buds swelling, while today he had planted three dozen annual seedlings he’d grown inside. More seedlings were still in the house and would be put in over the next month. By summer his garden would be a burst of color.

Contented, he closed his eyes and tried to enter a state of meditation. With his job and the continuing postwar rebuilding work in progress in the city, Garak’s life could be stressful. However, these days he was able to find moments where he could indulge himself. Gardening, meditating, meals that left him full — these were all luxuries.

He had filled his mind with the image of a setting sun and brought his breathing to a slow and easy pace when he heard the tinkling of glass. 

Ah, of course. Julian was home.

“Soaking up the sun like the big lizard you are, I see,” he said as he approached. 

Garak opened his eyes to find a tray of iced tea on the small table beside him. Julian was pulling over a chair. A light sheen of sweat glistened on the doctor’s brow, no doubt gathered walking back from the hospital. There would be no basking for Julian. 

“Thank you, my dear,” he said, sitting up and taking a glass. “I’m getting more and more fond of this beverage every day.”

Julian wiped the sweat off his forehead. “I remember you were originally calling the concept an ‘abomination.’ And it is, by the standards of where I grew up, in England, but here I’ve become rather fond of it.” 

“You’ve managed to corrupt me with your human habits, whether they’re new or old.” 

At this Julian offered his glass in toast and clinked it against Garak’s.

They sipped their tea in companionable silence, until Garak pointed across the yard to a stone wall, where a regnar was sunning itself. 

“You’re a big lizard, that’s a small one,” Julian remarked. “And you both like the heat far more than I do.” Setting down his empty glass, he stood up and turned toward the house. “Time for a cooler, I think.”

Garak gulped down the rest of his tea. “I think I’ll come watch. Go in and get started. I’ll bring the water”

Julian gone, Garak lifted the stone in the garden which concealed the “cold hole” they’d constructed. A meter deep and lined with stone, it held a large bagful of water, which Garak pulled up by a cord. Whereas the ground and rocks at ground level were warm, the water inside the bag was nicely chilled. 

The washing room featured a seldom-used bathtub and beside it in a corner, a curtained off area. Julian had already stripped down completely and seated himself on the bench in the center of the curtains. 

“Here you are, dear,” said Garak, entering the space and hooking the water bladder from a hook in the ceiling. He then went to a shelf and pulled out a flexible tube, which he attached to the water bag. The tube reached about a third of a meter over Julian’s head. Satisfied with this arrangement, Garak twisted an attachment at the end of the hose.

Julian drew in slow breath and let it out as he flexed in obvious pleasure. “Perfect.” Cool mist and drips of water fell onto his hair and shoulders, ran down his chest and back. 

Garak watched him for a couple of minutes. “I’m very glad you invented this,” he said. 

“So am I,” Julian agreed. “And not just because it cools me down.”

Watching Julian relax under the spray, his muscles skin glistening, Garak changed his mind about watching. He began to strip. 

Julian ran his eyes up and down Garak’s body, then moved over to make room on the bench. Once Garak sat down, he pushed his shoulder against the naked human.  

Julian kissed him in the cheek. “If not for this invention, I might have moved off Cardassia,” Julian said softly. “Not only because of the heat, but because I wouldn’t have gotten to know you as I do now.”

Garak kissed his partner’s cheek in turn. “I’m grateful.” 

As the mist began to settle on his scales, Garak remembered back. 


	2. Not Quite Like Old Times

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garak meets up with Bashir for the first time since the doctor arrived on Cardassia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Put together another chapter after work today. I'm hoping to update this at least once a week and I think I've met my goal. Thanks for all the comments on the opening chapter. I hope this chapter works.

Garak had been delighted when he discovered Bashir’s name on a list of Federation personnel arriving in Cardassia City as part of relief efforts. He was handling a great deal of communication with the Federation, but the specifics of the medical operations were in someone else’s hands. But when he was asked to review the list, he immediately felt as though he’d been handed a gift.

While he didn’t have much of any time for diversions, a visit to the doctor’s new place of work was certainly in order. It could be justified as part of his job, liaising with Cardassia’s allies. (How strange that he’d ended up in that role, after a career of working against them!) 

Scanning the list, he noted the date Bashir’s group would be arriving and picked a date a week later visit the central clinic. By that time, he hoped, the doctor might have settled in enough to spare the time to chat. Knowing Bashir, he’d be as thorough as he could with every patient, from war orphans to guls, but surely he could manage a short lunch. 

* * *

Their first lunch wasn’t like old times at the station. 

For politeness sake, he sent the doctor a message in advance, letting him know what day he’d be stopping by. Knowing the head of the emergency health program helped with that. 

When Garak arrived at the central hospital, he was dizzied by the masses of people, of all ages and classes, crammed into the tents outside and presumably within the hospital itself – the section of it still standing, that was. Some patients were clearly waiting, others were recuperating, and the lucky ones were being fussed over by doctors, nurses and volunteers Garak heard the coughing of irritated lungs and the crying of children. 

It was among children that Garak located Bashir. A girl of about six was perched on a table as the doctor examined her eyes with a variety of instruments. 

“I know you’re probably very worried, Lara, but it’s going to be fine,” he assured her. “Go with the nurse and he’ll take you to a waiting area until I can do the micro-surgery later.”

The nurse approached and took the girl’s hand. Only when he guided her out of the tent did Garak realize the girl was blind. 

“Hello, Doctor,” he said, entering the exam space. Bashir was putting down a note on a PADD. 

When Bashir looked up, he seemed quite surprised to see Garak – but then he’d probably forgotten about the message amidst his work. 

“Garak!” He set the PADD down and offered his full attention. “Sorry, I didn’t see you. Were you lurking long?”

“No, just a minute or, too. Long enough to— “ 

 Something suddenly occurred to him. 

“You’re speaking Cardassian!” 

“I am,” Bashir confirmed, in an accent that was simply charming. “Finally put my augmented brain to it, and in the few weeks I had before leaving for this mission, I got it down.”

A startling possibility entered Garak’s mind. “Can you read it too?”

Bashir, now arranging supplies in a bin, nodded. “Yes. After I got through the basics, I started in on some stories and books I still had from you.”

“And as it was I said? Better in Cardassian?”

Bashir smirked. “Not as a rule.”

“Oh, Doctor, I’ve missed this,” said Garak, rubbing his hands together. “Which is why I came here to bring you out for lunch.”

The doctor’s face fell. “Oh, sorry, Garak. About that. I really would love to, but I’m swamped. This morning a transport brought in twenty orphans from a small town fifty-odd kilometers away. I’m only halfway through with them.”

Garak had indeed noticed a group of young, gaunt children waiting nearby. 

“Ah. I should have realized.” He took out his own PADD and tapped a few times to look something up. “Well, how about this? Since you can’t leave, I’ll go out and bring us both some lunch. There’s a food market not far from here.”

“I’ve been there a few times. Still getting used to the food, not knowing what most of it is, but seems good in general. And people are nicer to me than I would’ve thought.” His gaze went to the waiting children. “You’d really do that? Because I’m needed here… but I haven’t even had breakfast.”

“Then I shall rectify that. I’ll be back in twenty minutes” Garak turned to go when a thought occurred: “Let me choose the food, but sorry, what would you like to drink? I doubt there’s an Tarkalean tea.”

“If you go the stall that sells tea and juice, you can get me some iced tea. The old man has sold it to me before — quite accommodating. That’d be lovely.”

“ _Iced_ tea?” Garak deemed this is a revolting concept

“Cold. I’ve developed a fondness for it only a week in, changing a lifetime of habit. It’s so hot here!”

It was late winter, hardly “hot.” Surely Bashir would be requiring a great deal of iced tea in summer. 

“Alright, doctor. I shall force myself to supply this aberration, in deference to your sweaty forehead.” 

Bowing out of the tent, Garak felt immensely glad he’d sought Bashir out. Even if they had to squeeze in lunch in between examinations of young children, it was a diversion he looked forward to. 


	3. Lizard Lunch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bashir and Garak catch up over a rather informal lunch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here's a third chapter of these two engaging in charming conversation. I caught up in it. But I think the next chapters should have a bit more action.

“Here you are,” Garak announced, setting down two bowls atop a waist-high stack of medical supply boxes.

Bashir’s back was turned, attending another young patient. The doctor finished administering a series of hyposprays before speaking.

“I’ll be with you in a moment,” Bashir assured him. The human’s newly acquired language skills were impressive, coming out quite naturally, but his accent was noticeable. It suited him, however, following a lilting cadence Garak supposed echoed his native tongue.

He watched as the exam continued. The girl sitting on the table appeared to be roughly four years old. Her hair was cropped very short and she wore a dusty institutional tunic that had seen better days. From the look on her face, weary resignation, Garak concluded perhaps she was older than her undersized frame implied.

“There, all done,” Bashir concluded, helping the girl down from the exam table. “Now if you’ll head out that that way,” he said, gesturing, “and head two tents straight down, you’ll be able to pick out new clothes, something that will fit you nicely.”

“Thank you,” the child said, ducking her head before leaving.

“Federation issue, I assume?”

The doctor nodded. “I’m afraid you wouldn’t approve.”

No, he probably wouldn’t, but it had to be better than the raggedy tunic.

“If I could rectify that, I would,” he sighed. “But as you know, I’m no longer a tailor.”

“Right.” Bashir pulled out two chairs and positioned them next to the exam table. For a tablecloth, he pulled out a thin sheet used as a patient cover-up. “It’s not elegant as dining spots go, but it’s what I have.”

“Understood,” said Garak, moving the bowls over. From a shoulder bag he produced a thermos. “Iced tea, as requested.”

The doctor reached for it even as he took a seat. “Very much appreciated. I haven’t been thirstier in my life than I have the past week. Even when our Jem'Hadar ship crash-landed onto that rock and we were basically camping, at least it wasn’t an oven.”

Garak dug into his meal. “Regrets, doctor?”

“Oh, not at all,” he said, beginning to shovel food into his mouth. After one bite, he paused. “Garak, what is this?”

“Is it not to your liking?”

Bashir was now examining the contents of his bowl, apparently for the first time. “No, no, it’s fine. I just.. wasn’t paying attention. Noodles and... peas... and some type of meat?” He brought up another forkful.

“ _Regnar_ ,” Garak supplied. “Lizards. They’re ubiquitous and thus perfect street food.”

If it bothered the doctor to be eating actual meat, rather than replicated, he didn’t show it. “So we’re essentially eating pigeon,” he quipped.

“I’m not sure what animal your referring to, but this is _regnar_.” It wasn’t at all bad. In fact he foresaw further visits to that market stall. “However, now that we’ve discussed Cardassian cuisine, tell me how you’ve been doing.”

“Me?” Bashir reaches for the water. “I’ve only been here a week, mostly confined to this triage unit. Exams, surgery, administering vaccines, directing aid orders. Done some training of non-medical personnel, too, as many locals want to volunteer. How about you, old friend?”

Garak finished chewing before replying. “I don’t have any official title, but as I mentioned in my note, I’ve been spending most of my time acting as a liaison to the Federation. I am, after all, one of the few here who hasn’t lived the past several years as the Federation’s enemy.”

Bashir was evidently enjoying his meal. The corners of his eyes were crinkled as he smiled — while eating.

“It’s rather funny, don’t you think?” Bashir asked, once he’d swallowed. “You liaising with Federation while I’m considered a _persona non grata_.”

“Excuse me? That phrase didn’t translate, but… can I infer that you are not on your government’s good side?”

Bashir shrugged. “I don’t know how much you know of the details of my ‘pardon’ from Starfleet, after my augmentations were revealed, but Captain Sisko advised me that he didn’t think I was likely to come up for further promotions in Starfleet.”

“The idea being that your officer status had been earned unfairly?”

“Yes,” Bashir sighed. “Which, if I’m honest, could be true, probably _is_ true.” The doctor ran one hand through his wavy hair. “But back to the point, it’s occurred to me that Starfleet is content to let me stay on DS9, no promotion, no transfer, hoping I get bored of it and resign.”

“At which point, you would go where?”

“I have no idea, frankly,” the doctor admitted. “I have no interest in going back to Earth, nor would the Terran government have any interest in having me.”

A thought occurred to Garak. “What about Cardassia?”

Bashir slapped the flats of his palms over the tops of knees, like a kind of punctuation, before rising from his chair. “Well, I’m here now. At the very least, I’m useful on this planet, whereas on the station I’ve become a bit redundant, to be honest.”

The doctor began to inspect the contents of a tool tray by the exam table. "I’ve also tested out my theory that I could learn a language very quickly if I didn’t have to worry about giving myself away as an augment.”

Now he turned back to Garak. “And I have at least one friend, one familiar face, here.”

“So this is a test?”

“I wouldn’t say that… I came almost without thinking, when the call went out for volunteers. It wasn’t until I was on my way here that I realized the opportunity.”

“Excuse me,” a voice piped up behind Garak. “I’m here to see the human doctor.”

Garak turned. “Ah, well, you’ve come to the right place, young man.” The boy was about eight years old and a bit stockier than the girl had been, although still underfed. He also needed new clothes.

“I’ll be on my way, Doctor, but rest assured I’ll stay in touch. We can resume our weekly lunches?”

“I’d like that very much” Bashir agreed. “Cheers.”

As Garak made his way out through the medical tests, he found himself brimming with excitement at the prospect of Bashir remaining on Prime. I was a long shot he would stay, but perhaps with his position he could have some influence in the matter. Even just restarting their lunches was a start.


	4. Into the Mist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian invites Garak to visit him at home. Garak gets more than a simple tour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been trying to post a chapter a week, and so this week I started early, on Thursday. However, I ended up writing most of it today. It took a long time, seemed to take forever. I thought I was just struggling but turns out, this chapter is over 3,000 words. Lots and lots of Garak thinking, plus a lot of dancing around.

As he made his way to his friend's housing block one afternoon in late spring, Garak considered that in his new life, the rekindling of their friendship one of the things that made him happiest. True, the impact of the Dominion War was clear almost everywhere he looked — bodies were still being uncovered beneath ruins — but he _was_ back on Cardassia, surrounded by Cardassians. For all the daily duties of government administration tired him out and tested his patience, it _was_ rewarding to contribute to the state as it regrouped. And then there was _Julian_.

He’d started to privately refer to the doctor by his first name. This was a recent development and he was having to be careful not to use it in conversation, as it would be too familiar. “Doctor,” “dear doctor,” and the occasional “my dear” were still the standard form of address. He, of course, remained “plain, simple Garak.” At that point, so few people were alive who would have ever used his first name that if someone called him _Elim,_ he might think they were talking to someone else. Julian still hadn’t tried it, not in all their years as friend. But maybe he would soon. Humans were quick to use the familiar. Was it possible Julian thought of Garak as _Elim_ in his head?

Garak did still wonder what the doctor was getting out of their friendship. It was his sense that unlike Cardassians, in general humans didn’t think of friendship in terms of strategy, advantages, and benefits. But Garak considered it on the doctor’s behalf: _What is he getting?_

Julian was certainly in need of company, for although there were colleagues, volunteers and patients, he didn’t have much time to really get to know them or for them to learn about him. Garak was someone familiar, someone with shared memories and experiences. 

Another thing Julian got was a break from his strenuous duties at the hospital. The man’s stamina was astounding. Garak gathered the doctor often worked a dozen hours a day, sometimes more, as required. The city's great need for his services was a large part of this, but Garak guessed it also had to do with the fact that away from humans and the Federation, Julian had no reason to hide what his genetic enhancements had given him. 

But even augments need a break, mental and physical, and their lunches, which had increased to _twice_ a week, provided that. The prior week they had actually met up _after_ work, with Garak showing Julian his working space — _office_ would be too grand a word — on the way to a tiny bar he’d discovered. He’d introduced the doctor to Cardassian beverages that had never appeared in Quark’s. Julian had referred to several varieties as _moonshine_ , a word that didn’t translate at all. 

Julian had now been on the planet for nearly two months and was showing no signs of wanting to leave. On more than one occasion, early on, Garak had asked him directly what had made him come to Cardassia. He’d gotten the reply he'd expected. As a doctor, Julian felt he had to go where most needed. He had experience treating Cardassians, more than most other Starfleet or Federation doctors outside Cardassia. The was also the opportunity to work with children, something he’d been interested in during medical school. True, he had treated children at the station and on Starfleet missions, but the numbers were fairly low. On today’s Cardassia, everyone needed extra care, including orphans like those Julian had been treating the first time Garak visited him.

At their after-work meeting, however, Julian had answered the question in a different way. They’d been at the bar, Julian enjoying a third shot of _moonshine_ , Garak some nearly-acceptable kanar.

“Tell me, doctor. Beyond all the noble reasons you’ve given me for coming to Cardassia, are there any more, shall we say, _selfish_ motives?” He was really just making conversation, not expecting an answer. “Was it so you could enlighten us all on the merits of Shakespeare and Orwell?” 

Julian snorted into his glass. “I don’t think I’d dare attempt that, after years of trying with you.” He sat back a little straighter on his stool. "So you suspect not all my motives were noble?”

Again, Garak still hadn’t been expecting an answer, so he’d simply given the doctor a fond smile.

“Well, I suppose I shouldn’t tell you this, it’ll give you big head — sorry, that’s an idiom, meaning I’d swell your sense of self-importance — but in the end, it had to do with you.”

Garak picked up his glass and sipped the kanar. “With me?”

“Certainly.” Julian clasped his hands together. “During the last year of the war, I regretted how we’d been seeing each other less frequently. We didn’t entirely stop having lunch and we served together on and off, but it was so much less often.” The doctor’s eyes seemed to be gazing toward the past, not the present. “Sometimes I’d be patching people up in the infirmary or on the Defiant and think, ‘I really wish I had time to go to Garak’s and see if I could tempt him away from his codebreaking…’” Julian smiled sheepishly. “I also found myself reading less, without our literature exchanges.”

“I didn’t think you enjoyed many of the Cardassian pieces we read together, doctor.”

“Well, let’s just say that at times, I was just… how to put this in Cardassian?” Julian paused a moment in thought. “I just found it fun to argue with you. Or… I don’t know what it would be in your language, we’d say _bickering_. We weren’t at each other’s throats with our arguments. Just enough to be enjoyable.”

Garak had been faintly shocked by this revelation. Did Julian have any idea what he was saying by describing how he _enjoyed_ their arguments? And that he missed them? 

After this exchange, Garak found himself quickly finishing off his kanar and then calling it a night. Was it his imagination, or did Julian seem disappointed?

But that was last week. Now he was a couple of streets away, coming by to see something at Julian’s flat that the doctor insisted he could only see there in his room. Garak had no idea this could be, but as usual he wasn’t intrigued so much by the question but by the doctor himself. Maybe Julian really _was_ his favorite thing on Cardassia.

* * *

The aid workers’ housing block had been hastily constructed but was nonetheless quite a solid structure. The Federation had gone with lunar rock and built a multi-story dormitory that housed about four hundred people. This included both Federation workers and many Cardassians. Having worked with the Federation on its construction, Garak knew that it was modest but well-outfitted, with a communal kitchen and lavatories on each floor and a community room plus offices on the first floor. It met everyone’s basic needs. 

Garak announced his arrival to the security system at the entrance. “This is Elim Garak, here to visit Julian Bashir.” The computer acknowledged his request and a message appeared on the screen indicating it was contacting a resident.

After a slightly longer than expected wait, Julian popped upon the screen. “Oh, hello, Garak! Sorry, I was just setting something up. I’ll let you in. I’m in 412.”

A chime rang, signaling the door was unlocked, and Garak stepped through into the lobby. It was starkly institutional, lunar rock walls and gray tile floor. That is, except for the community room, visible through a glass wall. That room had been made more cozy with rugs, chairs, a few houseplants. There were even a few bits of artwork on the wall, drawings and paintings. Garak moved down the gray hallway and signaled for the lift.

When the door swished open, Julian was there to meet him. “Thought I'd save you the time of finding my unit. Come, let me show you.”

Julian taking the lead, they walked together down the hall.

“See the stripe going down the middle of the tile? That's so we can tell the floors apart. Every one of the eight floors has a different color stripe.”

Julian’s floor had an orange stripe, which they followed to a unit near the front right corner. The doctor had apparently left the door ajar, so Garak followed him right in.

“It’s not much but it’s appreciated,” Julian said, gesturing at the not-so-grand space. “People with partners or families have larger quarters, but this is fine for me.” 

A single room with a single window, the unit had the same gray tile floor as most of the building, along with a set of serviceable furniture, including a bed, table (topped with a box of rations), a clothes cabinet, two chairs, and a smaller table that could be a desk.

It was all quite impersonal, except for two things. He knew which one Julian wanted to show him, so he headed toward the other one, the desk. Lined up all along the back edge were all sorts of trinkets —painted rocks, small wood carvings, paper flowers, a couple of slender vases (one chipped at the top), and more. 

“Gifts?”

Julian joined him and picked up a small piece of paper with a drawing on it — a curly-haired man with a small figured seated on a table.

“They’re mostly from children,” he explained. “They’re either so grateful, or their parents are, that they make or find trinkets to give to me.”

“It’s a tradition, doctor — one I’m glad to see observed. Children brings gifts to those who bring the gift of healing.” 

Julian set the drawing down. “So I’ve been told.” He pointed to the vases. “Those two are from a woman whose husband I saved. I still had to amputate his leg, but she was so grateful she fetched these from the cache of things they’d saved from their ruined house. I tried to politely refuse but…”

“She insisted, of course.” 

Garak now turned to the other item of interest in the room. Suspended from one corner of the ceiling was a contraption that had clearly not come standard with the unit. A water bladder hung from a hook, a long tube dangling from the end. Attached to the tube was something that looked like a combination of a faucet and a shower head, though not really either. Two rolled up pieces of fabric, perhaps sheets, along with the corner of the room, formed off a square, and in the middle stood a low stool. 

“You’ve built yourself a makeshift shower,” he observed, moving to stand next to it. “An admirable bit of engineering given that this project lacks both shower and baths.”

“Actually, no,” said Julian, shaking his head. “There isn’t nearly enough water in the bladder for a shower, or at least not one lasting more than a minute. A minute-long shower isn’t even worth taking.” He pointed to the nozzle at the end of the tube. “This isn’t designed for that, but to help me cool down. I just turn the valve here,” he explained, pretending turn it, “and a fine mist sprays out. I call it a _mister_.”

Only now did Garak recall that the housing block lacked showers and bathtubs. Water use was restricted for everyone and the Federation had built with that in mind. In the future, they might be added. In the meantime, Julian likely was washing off using the sinks.

“I can’t get a shower here and I get to roasting. And I feel grimy, too.” Julian now let go of the tube and approached the dresser. Then he pulled his shirt over his head.

“What are you doing, Ju— doctor?” Garak asked, even before the human had the shirt fully off. And, stars, he had _almost_ said it! 

Julian looked at Garak quizzically. “Taking off my shirt, of course.” And now he had kicked off his shoes and was shimmying out of his pants!

Involuntarily, Garak took a step backwards. Was Julian going to get completely naked? He stood in silence, mildly shocked, as Julian stripped down to what his human clients on the stations had called _boxer shorts_. 

“Ahm, doctor,” he forced out. 

Julian, putting his things in a pile, looked over. “What? Did I— Oh, sorry, Garak, I _did_.” He began to reach out for his shirt, but then withdrew his hand. “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking. I was just going to demonstrate how it works. I wasn’t thinking about, um, how I’d be exposing myself to you.”

“You must be hot to have not thought of that,” Garak remarked dryly. 

“Yeah,” the doctor admitted. “Hmm, well, what’s done is done.” He headed over to the mister. Back turned, he turned a lever and a fine mist began to spray. “It took trial and error to get this right — size of the bladder, amount of water, size tube, and had to replicate this nozzle, which took some finagling."

“I’m sure,” Garak murmured. He’s never seen so much of the doctor’s body at once, not even in the fitting room. He’d always had either top or bottom covered. His lean body gleamed in the sunlight coming through the window. As drops of water accumulated, he began to sparkle. 

Julian, now sitting on the stool, cocked his head. “Would you like to join me?” he asked. “I know you’re not hot, none of you Cardassians seem to be, but… just to try it?”

Now Garak was confused. In Cardassian culture, there was such a thing as communal saunas, but they wore a lot more clothes. Garak knew that Earth probably had such things, too, but asking someone to share a shower seemed different in this context. He was familiar with the human concept of sharing a shower or bath as a sign of intimacy, between lovers. 

“You’re inviting me to share a shower?” he asked.

“It’s not a shower. But yes.”

A witty retort was on the tip of Garak’s tongue, along with a “Thank you, but I’d rather not,” but instead what Garak heard himself saying was, “Alright, I will.”

“Great. I’ll stand up so we can share.” He moved the stool away.

Why had he said he wanted to get in the not-shower? By the time Garak had unfastened his shirt, he concluded that he just really wanted to get close to Julian’s body. And wasn’t that peculiar?

He crossed the room and stepped under the mister. Or, truthfully, he stepped close enough to get some mist on his arm, but no closer.

“I gather you’re shy, Garak, but get under here,” Julian urged. “I won’t bite.”

Although the human had spoken in Cardassian, Garak could tell he’d tried to use an English or Standard idiom that didn’t translate over. Unless humans bit when they were intimate? 

Once they were both fully under the nozzle, they were standing only a few inches apart. Garak had long had a habit of standing in Julian’s personal space, but without clothes was something else. 

“Do you like it?” Julian asked after about a minute. “It probably doesn’t do the same for use as it does for me, but it still feels good, right?”

Garak nodded. Yes, it did feel good, but it wasn’t all because of the water. Seeing Julian close up like this was having an effect he hadn’t anticipated. Garak really wanted to kiss him. 

What kind of thought was that? He hadn’t felt this way, even a little bit, in years, certainly not while on Deep Space 9. 

Wait. That wasn’t true. Several times, he _had_ felt like this, around Julian. At the end of the cursed, ridiculous adventure in the holosuite, when Agent Bashir quoted Garak’s words back at him. That time Bashir had pinned Dukat like a bug on the wall as he laid out the evidence that Dukat had engineered the boy Rugal’s disappearance…. and reappearance. And, in probably the most significance example, just as he’d said goodbye to Bashir for what he thought was the last time. “We live in uncertain times,” he’d said.

There was nothing for it now, except to ignore the urge, which he always had. It wouldn’t last. These moments were so fleeting. He’d be much more comfortable once they had their clothes back on. 

Both men kept conversation to a minimum after that, simply standing under the mist. Garak tried to restrain himself from looking at Bashir, but it wasn’t possible to avert his eyes. To get through it, he put his mind into tailor mode and pretended he was sizing the human for a fitting. 

Once the water ran out, both of them stepped away. Glancing at the floor, Garak saw that all the water had gathered in the corner, none of it spilling past the fabric barriers. 

He crossed the room and put his shirt back on. Julian made no move to cover himself.

“Sometimes I use the wet sheets and rinse myself off a little. I want to get maximum use out of the limited water.”

Garak scarcely heard the words. Instead he was processing the fact that Julian’s member, concealed under his shorts, was clearly aroused. _Don’t look, don’t look_ , he told himself, after he had looked… and looked _again_. Garak went to the window.

“Can I ask you something?” Julian questioned, hesitation in his voice. The man was behind him but had thankfully not moved any closer.

“Certainly.” 

As Garak clasped his hands behind his back and gazed out the window, Julian began to speak quietly. 

“I don’t know how to ask you this, but I keep wanting to — ever since the first time you came to visit me at the clinic here. I may as well ask you now, the time seems right.” The doctor took a deep breath and exhaled. “Back at the station… all those years… I thought we were flirting. _You_ certainly were! We kept coming close to something more, but we never did. Why didn’t we ever act on it?”

Before Garak could concoct a response, Julian continued. “Were we too scared? Was it because of politics? Was it just because for so long I had a secret to hide and couldn’t get close to anyone? More than anyone that entire time, no matter who I was dating, I wanted that ‘something more.’”

Garak looked down at the floor. “It was all of those things, doctor. And the war of course. The last couple of years, the Dominion took a toll on most of our lives. It wasn’t exactly conducive to romance. I was having anxiety attacks. You were dealing with war wounded.” All perfectly true statements, though not mentioning the truth.

“Let me clarify, Garak,” Julian said. He was now standing closer, but not _too_ close. “Were you attracted to me? Because I am to you.”

“Yes.”

“What about now?”

Garak sighed. “Yes to that as well.”

He felt a hand on his shoulder. Bashir must have stepped closer. Suddenly Garak wanted out. He turned.

“I’m sorry, doctor, but I’m afraid there’s a cultural barrier that we won’t be crossing.”

Julian frowned. “What… cultural barrier? Because I’m another species?”

“No, not that, I assure you.” He crossed the room and stood near the door. “Something… I’d rather not talk about, if you don’t mind.”

Standing in his underwear, Julian suddenly looked quite vulnerable, especially with the mildly stricken look on his face. “Alright,” he agreed. “But can we talk about this later?”

“Perhaps.”  He opened the door. “In the meantime, thank you for having me over. I’ll see you at lunch.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BTW, the “mister” is based on a contraption my family had for camping when I was a kid. It was a large black rubber water bladder you filled with lake or river water. You laid it out in the sun, preferably a big rock, all day, then hung it in a tree or on a line. There was a tube and sprayer so you could take a sort of warm shower. TBH it didn’t work all that well, and I’m not sure this mister is even possible, but suspend your disbelief with me.


	5. To Tell the Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After an awkward conversation at Julian's apartment, Garak despairs at his stupidity. How can he possibly rescue himself from this? The time comes for their next lunch together and he has no idea what he's going to say. Oddly, he has a feeling only the truth will work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished this chapter up ahead of schedule, as when I started playing around starting on the first bit, it all just kind of flowed. And it became almost 3,000 words.
> 
> Also, I want to say thank you to all who've been commenting. I didn't expect a lot of feedback. But apparently some of you are into it.

As Garak exited the housing block, inside his head spun a whirl of emotions. Frustration. Humiliation. Confusion. 

Frustration, because the way things had just played out was the same as they always played out, particularly with Julian. He already knew Julian was his favorite person — to talk with, to be around, share time with. But as soon as Julian had stripped off all but his briefs, Garak became aware of him in a physical sense. Rather than spurring him on to action, the impulse hit as it always did: the conviction that initiating anything, even something as simple as a kiss, would lead to places he didn’t know how to navigate. After the kiss, then what? Would Julian kiss him back? Would the human then desire more physical intimacy? Of course he would. He was a young, virile man with the same drives and desires as anyone else, except for Garak of course. Moving forward, even with one kiss, would put Garak in the position of starting something he couldn’t finish. 

He felt humiliation as the scene in Julian’s room played over on his mind. How he’d been so loath to take his shirt off, reluctant to stand close, until the doctor prompted him. So uncomfortable once they were inches apart, and probably displaying ill-concealed shock when he’d noticed Julian’s arousal. Surely the man must’ve noticed, because he’d ventured into a topic they’d never before hit upon directly — the nature of their relationship, beyond friendship. He’d even asked Garak point blank if he was attracted to him, and Garak had said yes. But naturally he’d instantly regretted it, and on the back of that, offered up a vague excuse for why he had never acted on it. Finally, he’d run out of there like a spooked regnar. What did Julian think of him now? 

So overall, Garak was confused, as he’d been most of his life when it came to intimate relationships. Such things seem to come easily to others — romance, dating, pairing off, the actual sexual act, a long-term relationship — but even the first steps eluded him. Any move a normal person would make seemed like a dangerous mistake, one where Garak could destroy a friendship by not being able to follow through on promises. True, as a young Obsidian Order agent he’d been asked to exercise his wiles in the line of duty, but that was _acting_. He knew how to flirt, knew what it took to arouse a female or a male, and he could do it, but only because it was _work_. Once the mission was completed, his target apprehended or assassinated or the information stolen, he broke it off behind him like it had never been. He’d had to do the same with other unpleasant aspects of his work, so it wasn’t really that difficult. 

But he didn’t want to “act” with Julian. He wanted something _real_. Yet once again, as always, he found himself hitting an invisible wall: close but no closer. 

He and Julian were set to have lunch in three days. How was he going to get this sorted? 

* * *

The next three days were interminable. Over and over he tried to plan for what he would do next. What he would say? He devised various different lies, dodges, fabrications, but when he played out the scenarios in his mind, he couldn’t imagine them working. The doctor was too perceptive, too caring, and above all, knew him too well. 

In his heart, Garak really didn’t want to lie. But how could he not? Lying was protection, lying would keep him in control.

Why did Julian have to go and ruin everything by inviting him over to see that _mister_? Up to that point everything had been fine. 

* * *

By the time the hour of their lunch date had arrived, Garak had given up trying to plan for eventualities. He had barely slept at all the night before and felt a headache coming on. _Just pretend everything is the same as it was_ , he told himself. _Maybe he won’t bring it up._ He was grasping at straws. _Slim chance —_ _the man is an Augment with a memory as good as any Cardassian’s._ Fatalism weighed him down.

They met at the hospital as usual. Julian was still working outside most of the time, aside from surgeries. The work still required long hours, but the medical situations were less dire. 

When Garak peeked into the tent, he found the doctor examining an old woman with a vicious bruise across her face. It looked like she’d been hit with a pipe. At a glance, he noticed several ways the woman looked like Mila. After making brief eye contact with Julian, he stepped outside the tent to wait until the exam was finished. 

His mind, looking for something to distract him from the stress he was facing, hit upon his mother. She’d done her hair just like the patient in Julian’s tent. He’d never seen bruises on her, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there under her clothes. 

Connecting past to present, he recalled a time when Tolan had asked him if he had “found a pretty girl” yet. He was a young man and already in the Order. Mila had chided his “father,” saying a man like Garak had to be married to the state. Tain had not even had to mention such a thing; it was simply implied and demonstrated in the way he ran the Order. 

After a couple of minutes, Julian parted the curtain and said goodbye to his patient. 

“Come on in, Garak,” he said, gesturing for him to take seat.  “I actually have managed to carve out nearly an hour today for lunch.”

“I’m delighted you could fit me into your busy schedule.” Sticking to pleasantries and shallow repartee was a good way to start. “And you’ve brought food!”

In a bowl atop a medical supply container were stacked a half dozen delicate breakfast sandwiches of fish and, Garak suspected, regova eggs and pickled vegetables. These were delicious hot or cold.

“Yesterday a local couple came to visit me. After losing two children back during the war with the Klingons, they’ve adopted one of the orphans I treated. They were so grateful to have her—”

“—they brought you a present.”

Julian’s mouth gaped, having been interrupted. “Yes, in a way. They told me they ran a stall in the market down the street here and that if I came by this morning I could pick up whatever I liked. After they let me sample one, I had to get a few for lunch.”

Garak was surprised anyone had the ingredients to make such sandwiches. Probably the product of some kind of black market, because it was doubtful they were replicated. They certainly didn’t _taste_ replicated! 

“Thank you,” He said after having a bite. “These are quite lovely. I honestly cannot remember the last time I had this, but I’m sure it’s been more than seven years.” 

The initial conversation as they ate went well. Garak caught the doctor up on some government projects he was working on, and Julian recounted a couple of noteworthy cases the hospital had seen that week. They talked politics and even discussed the weather. There was nothing at all to make Garak uncomfortable until they were finishing the last sandwich, which they had split. 

“OK, Garak,” Julian began, placing his hands flat on the table. “I’d like to talk about what happened the other day. And we have at least a half an hour to do so. Unless it’s an emergency, there won’t be any interruptions.”

_Perhaps they’ll be an emergency..._

“I was impressed by your _mister,_ doctor. Do be careful. If word of it gets out, some of your fellow residents might become beating on your door.”

Julian rolled his eyes up towards the tent ceiling. “Nice deflection, Garak, but you know I’m not here to talk about my minor feat of engineering.”

The human looked at him expectantly. And kept looking at him, waiting for Garak to answer. 

_I’m not making the first move in this game._

After waiting three quarters of a minute, which seemed longer, Julian sighed and crossed his arms. 

“I should have known getting this out of you would be like pulling teeth.” 

That was probably an idiom, which Julian had put into Cardassian, Garak surmised, but it worked anyway. 

“All right, doctor,” he acquiesced, “I will try to give you a better explanation than I already have.” _Which wouldn’t be difficult._ “However, I don’t think it will change anything.”

“Try me.” Julian still had his arms crossed.

Garak steeled himself to tell the truth. Speaking the truth, especially a personal truth, was a dangerous thing. It opened one up to all kinds of attack — hurt, disappointment, rage, blowing a cover, blackmail. But Garak knew in this matter he would have to offer up some truth or risk souring a sweet thing. 

“Despite my reputation, I ask you to please believe me when I say this is the truth,” he began. “In answer to your question from the other night, yes, I _was_ flirting with you. I flirt with many people, usually without noticing. But I noticed with you.” 

People had mistaken Garak’s friendly manner for flirting many times. Ziyal for example! In Garak’s mind, however, flirting didn’t mean he wanted to move on to anything more. Flirting — whether human sweet talk or Cardassian style bickering — was simply the default mode for his social interaction, at least when he wasn’t engaged in something more serious. There’d been no flirting on the bridge of the Defiant. 

“As for the attraction, it’s been there from the very start. Your species has never even come into it.”

In fact, there had been times when he’d thought of the doctor as Cardassian, especially since his genetic secret had been revealed. Their conversations, when they occurred, were even more stimulating once the human stopped hiding his mental prowess. 

“I’ve always looked forward to our conversations, our lunches, and that’s true now, on Cardassia, more than ever.”

Garak’s thoughts went briefly to the hurtful words he’d thrown at Bashir during his withdrawal from the implant. He hadn’t meant it; that was his unhappiness and guilt speaking. It wasn’t Julian’s fault that he was exiled. 

The doctor, had been studying him intently. “So, if I’m hearing you correctly, you’ve been attracted to me, and flirting, since the beginning.” Garak nodded in confirmation. “I don’t understand then — why did you never make a move? I would have welcomed it.”

“I know you would have, Julian.” 

Finally, he’d said the word out loud. _Julian!_

“The problem, however, is that I couldn’t, and still can’t, give you any more than I have.”

There, he’d said it. And it wasn’t as hard as he’d expected. This next bit, however, would surely not be easy. 

“But I still don’t understand,” said Julian, “What do you mean can’t give me any more?” 

 _I guess I have to spell It out,_ he conceded. _How humiliating._

“Forgive me for my bluntness, doctor, but are you interested in sex?”

_I can’t believe I just asked him that._

“What kind of question is that?”

“Quite a simple one, I should think. Do you enjoy sex? Would you, have you thought of, having sex with me?” 

Flashes of interrogations. Though this was not the question he had ever asked someone in his custody. 

“That _is_ rather blunt... but yes, I’ve thought about it,” Julian admitted. 

“For a long time?” Garak questioned. 

“Yes, but we never went anywhere with our flirting, so—”

“—so you went to others for sex. An excellent choice.”

Julian’s brow creased in distress. “What does that have to do with anything, in the here and now, Elim?”

His name on dear Julian’s lips, and still he had to tell him.

“It means, dear doctor, that if it’s sex you’re looking for, that’s not something I can give you. And that’s a very good reason not to start a relationship, I should think.”

Julian looked down at the now empty bowl. “I can’t... Why—” he murmured, fishing for words. “I... wait, is there something wrong with you? A physical problem? Nothing ever showed up in your scans.”

“No, doctor, there isn’t anything physically wrong with me,” he explained, feeling the sea of humiliation crawl up to his neck. “Although that’s a valid question. In fact, I believe I’m perfectly fine, physically.”

Julian did not follow this up with a question, nor did it seem like he was going to. _Good, now I can get to the point._

“Simply put, I have little or no interest in sex. For the most part I find it distasteful.” Especially the times he did it for work. “Although I must admit...”

 _Why am I talking so much?_ It was like floodgates had opened.

“I must admit that the other day after you got undressed, I did have some urge to kiss you.” 

_I shouldn’t give him hope._

“But I’m afraid you wouldn’t get much more out of me, doctor.” He had to be firm. “So I’m sorry if I have led you on, but I have truly enjoyed your company all these years. I didn’t know how to tell you about... this.”

The doctor, who had been patiently listening to all this, reached out and gently set his hand in Garak’s knee. “Thank you for telling me. I think I understand.”

“Good, doctor. Now, I’m afraid it’s about time—”

“—about time we moved in to a relationship then. Can we make a proper date for tomorrow?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am asexual (mostly) and a lot of things I have Garak thinking, about hating to have led people on when there's no hope, is based on experience. I spent 25 years wondering what the hell was wrong with me that I couldn't get comfortable enough with people, didn't really want to, before I finally figured it out. I'm so much less stressed now.


	6. Why and Why Not

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay on this chapter. "Life" just kept happening!

Garak felt like he’d had the wind knocked out of him. Had he misheard the doctor or had it been the other way around?

“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” he said, looking down where Julian’s hand still rested on his knee.

Julian reached out and gently tipped up Garak’s chin. “It’s quite simple. I would like to go out with you, as in on a _date_ , as in starting some sort of _formal_ relationship.” He patted Garak’s knee, then withdrew his hand.

“I...” Garak fumbled. “Did you understand what I just told you?”

“Perfectly.”

Garak was suddenly annoyed. The arrogance of the man! “And what, you think that you can _change_ me?”

Julian’s eyes flashed. “No! I would never do that.”

The sound of tapping, metal on metal, sounded from somewhere nearby.

Julian stood up. “Sorry, Garak, but my time has run out. That’ll be a nurse come to deliver follow-up reports.” He reached out and took Garak’s hand. “Tomorrow?”

It was in his mind to simply walk out of the tent, but instead he found himself saying, “If you insist.”

“I do.” Julian stepped back. “Alak’s, tomorrow night, say 9? Or is that too late?”

For a moment Garak just stared. His brain didn’t seem to be processing this situation. “It’s... fine,” he managed. “I’ll try to get us more private seats, a booth perhaps.”

“Excellent,” Julian said as he parted the tent wall, holding it open so Garak could exit.

After the young nurse had entered and the curtain closed, Garak remained standing, one thought pounding in his mind: _What just happened?_

 

* * *

 

All the rest of the day, all night and all the next day, Garak tried to keep his mind away from that conversation in the tent. And yet he had so many questions.

_Has there been some sort of cultural misunderstanding?_

_What if Julian wants to kiss me?_

_Why in the world did I tell the truth?_

Naturally, he didn’t get anywhere with these questions. So he tried to focus on his work, dealt with insomnia by attempting to read, and considered having some kanar with lunch (but decided against it). He was tempted to barge in unannounced on the doctor at the hospital or at home and demand to talk to him.

As he left home for Azak’s, he had to resist the urge to simply turn around. But the questions kept repeating themselves in his mind.

 

* * *

 

The bar was operated by a man who in Garak’s Order days had been a known subversive, although he’d never seemed enough of a threat to bring in. These days he was heavily into political organizing, which he carried out from inside the business.

Azak greeted Garak as he came through the front door. “Your friend is in the back.”

He found Julian at a table near the kitchen, which was still open and taking orders. A half-eaten sandwich sat on a plate.

“I know you said you’d be grabbing us a table, but I was here first,” Julian said, rising slightly in his chair. “I haven’t had a chance to eat since lunch, so I set out a little early, hoping the food here was reasonably decent.”

Garak took a seat across the table. “And is it?”

“Quite good.”

A waiter arrived and took their drink orders. Julian again ordered “moonshine,” while Garak decided to try a different variety of kanar. He’d eaten dinner earlier at home.

As the server receded, Julian absently fingered the edge of his plate. The nervous gesture was not lost on Garak, who discerned that the doctor might also be anxious about the upcoming conversation.

“So, which of us should start?” Garak opened. Taking the lead might make him seem more confident than he actually was.

“You, I think,” Julian decided. “It seemed to me that yesterday you had more to say, and I cut you off. That and time ran out.”

Garak laid his hands flat on the table. “I’m glad you recognize our conversation was unfinished, doctor, although I do wonder if you quite understand how much there is to discuss.”

When Julian said nothing, instead politely listening, he continued. “Now, you will recall I very clearly told you I wasn’t in a position to ‘date’ you or enter into a ‘relationship.’”

“You did,” Julian agreed. “And I understand.”

“I don’t think you do,” he challenged.

Just then their drinks arrived, delivered by none other than Azar. He waited until

the man left to continue, then resumed before Julian could butt in.

“Let me talk, dear,” said Garak gently. “I think I may need to reiterate myself.” He raised his glass and sipped the kanar. Not bad. “It’s not something I’ve ever shared, but... My entire life, I’ve avoided relationships, even one-night affairs, because I’m not capable of the desires everyone seems to have. I don’t have the instinct and the thought of it is—”

“Repulsive?” supplied Julian.

My, but the human’s Cardassian vocabulary was impressive.

“Yes,” he agreed. “And more than that, it seems so _unnecessary_ , from my perspective. When I’ve thought about what an ‘ideal’ relationship would be, I tend to think of the things you and I do already — meals together, talking, going on walks, enjoying the arts... that sort of thing.”

Julian was still listening attentively. For a man who so frequently spoke before thinking, his relative silence was unusual. But now he held up a finger in inquiry.

“So... nothing _physical_?”

Garak almost agreed, but paused to consider. “Nothing _sexual_. At least, I don’t think so.”

“What do you mean you don’t ‘think so’?”

“Well, in the past some people have tried to initiate things physically when we had practically just met.  I don't care for that.”

“You need to know a person. And trust them.”

“Just so.”

Julian had by now finished his first drink. His eyes briefly sought out Azar.

“I think I already know the answer to this Garak, but tell me: Have you ever met someone like yourself? Is it something common or talked about on Cardassia?”

Garak spotter Azar approaching and quickly said, “Never and certainly not.”

After ordering another shot for himself a second kanar for Garak, Julian nodded thoughtfully. “That’s what I’ve been thinking about since yesterday. Frankly I don’t know a lot about Cardassian sexuality — hardly anything really.” He reached out and gently took Garak’s hand. “But I can tell you that asexuality is certainly a normal variation among Humans, and numerous other species as well.”

Garak withdrew his hand. “This ‘asexuality’” – Julian had in fact created his own Cardassian word to cover the concept – “isn’t a concept known among Cardassians.”

“Hmm. That might be so – or your society simply has never grown to recognize it.” The doctor raised his hand to forestall any argument. “Which is not me ‘moralizing’ or pushing Federation values, Garak. I’m just making a supposition. Anyway, it really has no bearing on your situation. We’re taking about you as an individual. And individually, you are _fine_. We just need to work on the shame you’ve accumulated.”

“I’m not ashamed,” Garak insisted. “I simply haven’t ever felt the need to talk about it.”

Julian looked at him askance. “Oh, really? You’re telling me that in all the years we knew one another on the station, amid all our flirting, you never considered that you could just tell me you weren’t ‘interested’ in that way?”

Garak could not in fact say that, as it wasn’t true. Nonetheless: “That flirting was delightful. I have no regrets.”

“I do.” Julian set down his shot glass. “We could have gotten started a lot earlier with all this.”

For a man with genetically augmented intelligence, Julian couldn really be obtuse.

“All of _what_?”

The doctor made a general motion with his hand indicating the space between them. “Garak. The other day, we admitted to one another than there’s mutual attraction. I am very interested in pursuing it. And I understand what you’ve told me.”

“I doubt that.”

Once again Julian reached out and took Garak’s hand. “I know you do. But can’t you give it a chance? I’m not even sure very much would change.”

Garak’s immediate impulse was to once again reject the proposition out of hand, but a small but apparently influential voice inside him said _‘why not?’_

“I really shouldn’t even entertain this idea,” he said, aware he already was. “You still haven’t explained how it could work.”

Julian gave Garak’s hand a squeeze. “Trust me. Please?”

Garak was far from trusting, but the feel of Julian’s hand on his and the memory of standing with the man under the mister persuaded him to give his friend the benefit of the doubt.

“Alright, dear,” he agreed. “So when is our next date?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In a weird coincidence, this past weekend I met somebody at a wine tasting and we kind of hit it off, as friends, but actually she was really into me. After exchanging info, we texted at length; during the course of this I told her that I was a gray asexual, meaning mostly not interested but liked both sexes, women moreso. Anyway, she professed to being understanding about all that and also didn't seem to have a problem when I explained that I was very inexperienced / it has been a long time. ANYWAY, I thought that was kind of cool, a parallel to this story, until I rapidly and disasterously realized she was a total PSYCHO. No knife, but, long story short, she was the epitome of the "crazy girlfriend" who is already too clingy, nosy and annoying even before a first date. And then the actual date resulted in 1) a story so epic I made a 30-min. vlog about it and 2) I walked away before it even started, after 2-3 house of BS meeting up and then the woman being drunk off her ass when I found her. I blocked her as soon as I got home last night. :) 
> 
> Julian and Garak will definitely fare better.


	7. Questions and Answers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garak and Julian start actually dating. At first it's not so different than before, but eventually each of them have questions. Warning: sap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After leaving everyone hanging on Chapter 6 for three weeks or whatever, decided to see if I could get Chapter 7 done a lot more quickly. Another incentive: I'm leaving town a week from Friday and am hoping to get this wrapped up by then. Two more chapters, I'm calculating.

Over the course of the next month, Garak noted subtle changes in their relationship. 

In many ways things remained the same as always. He and Julian met a couple times a week for lunch, at least once a week for dinner, and stopped by Azar's regularly. They still recommended books to one another and discussed them; thankfully Julian was able to collect new titles from his coworkers at the hospital. 

Twice in that first month Julian invited Garak over to use the mister, and while once he'd had a schedule conflict, on the other occasion he'd accepted. With the human now knowing the reason for his initial shyness, Garak no longer felt so shy. True, he hadn’t taken off his pants, but he stripped off his top and stood next to Julian under the mist without flinching or schooling his eyes to avoid looking at Julian’s bare skin. He’d looked plenty, in fact. 

One change, which Garak enjoyed, was that they were now touching one another much more often. These were both the usual casual touches as well as more intimate gestures, like holding hands while walking and embracing upon parting. Garak had known for years he was touch-starved, and the more he was able to freely touch someone, the more he enjoyed it. He loved the art of conversation, but he was learning that there was communication in touch as well, in the form of emotions — reassurance, friendship, calm, affection. Leaving the doctor after an embrace, Garak often felt the ghost of the human’s hands on his back and shoulders; he enjoyed the sensation while it lasted.

Fortunately for them, Cardassia’s general attitude toward same-sex relationships had relaxed, as in the past none of their more public gestures would have been possible or allowable. Even their private meetings would have drawn negative attention. Attitudes had been loosening for some time prior to the war, but in light of Dominion devastation and so many lives lost, Cardassians seemed to be embracing the opportunity to love whoever they chose and to, as Julian put it, “live and let live.”

* * *

During the course of their meetings, which were sometimes in public places or in crowds, Garak would occasionally notice Julian _noticing_ others. He wasn’t staring or getting distracted for long, but there were brief glances up and down bodies, and the doctor’s eyes would pick out a pretty face from across a market stall. Garak tried not to let it bother him, but one night at Azar’s, he decided to bring it up.

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you, Julian,” he began, over a glass of Terran wine, which the bar owner had somehow got his hands on. “Are you still interested in other people?”

Julian set down the drink he was holding. “What? How do you mean?” 

“I mean that when we’re out together, I notice you eyeing various people,” he explained. “Nurses, for example, and earlier a man sitting near the front.” He grasped the doctor’s shoulder. “No, don’t look.”

Julian shrugged off Garak’s hand. “Of course I look. I do have eyes, you know.”

“And what exactly does that mean? An idiom, I assume?”

“Yes. If you say ‘I have eyes,’ it means you are noticing something that’s obvious and, in this case, reacting to it. It’s perfectly natural to look, Garak.”

Whatever he had meant to say, the doctor was not assuring him.

Garak paused to gather his thoughts. “I understand why _you_ do, and I _notice_ people myself — that’s how we met, as you know.” ( _Ah, yes, that attractive young Federation officer_.) “But I’m just _looking_. I wonder what is going on in your head.”

Julian put his elbows on the table and rested his head in his hands. “Are you asking if I’m _attracted_ to these people? If I want to run off and have sex with them? Is _that_ it?”

“Yes, I think that is what I’m asking.” The doctor had intuited his real question nicely.

“You’re worrying too much, Garak,” Julian said, after a pause. “Yes, I do pick people out from crowds as attractive, and sometimes have the usual thoughts — usual for _me_. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to do anything about it.”

This explanation was more reassuring, but now Garak had another question.

Julian intuited it. “If you’re worried that I’m not getting what I need, don’t. I’m happy to be with you.”

“Hmm, well, that’s good to know. I had wondered.” He pushed his near empty wineglass across the table. “Try this. It’s rather good, for a Terran beverage.”

* * *

Ever since the truth about Julian’s enhancements had come out, Garak had been aware that the man was far more skilled in deception that he ever would have guessed. So when Julian offered assurances to him that he was satisfied, he wanted to believe him, but doubted he should. Not entirely, anyway.

Regardless, they continued to enjoy one another’s company, upping the number of times they met per week and growing more casual about arrangements. Garak had popped by the hospital on several occasions, once when it was on his way somewhere else, the other times when it was quite definitely not. Julian never seemed to mind his visits, and that seemed genuine, so why not indulge? His work liaising with the Federation was bearing fruit but grew wearying, especially when he was dealing with so many dull bureaucrats. A little time away from the office did him good. 

Tonight they were in Garak’s tiny “house,” fashioned from Tolan’s old gardening shed. Remarkably both of them had wrapped up their workdays early, and when Julian came by Garak’s office just as he was packing up, Garak had invited him over for dinner. Not that “dinner” counted for very much these days, although he did now have a real cook stove, actual pots, plates, and utensils. They’d had a meal of crispy pancakes, which Julian compared to something called _crepes_ , with a side of boiled vegetables (how Garak wanted an oven!) and a serving of Federation-supplied instant pudding. It certainly wasn’t I'danian spice pudding, but it was at least a little bit of needed indulgence.

“There's something I’ve been wanting to ask you,” Julian announced, as he scraped the last of the pudding from his cup. 

“Oh?” he prompted. He’d used the same words to ask Julian about their relationship.

Julian turned towards him on the tiny couch. “I was wondering if I could start calling you _Elim_.”

Garak had nearly forgotten about the fact Julian was still using his last name.

“Why, of course, dear. I’ve been calling you _Julian_ for weeks now.”

Julian set down his dish. “I noticed. Forgive me for not thinking of it earlier. I just carried on as before. But it does seem odd, doesn’t it? Even to a Cardassian?”

“Indeed, Julian.”

Feeling very pleased, Garak stood and gathered the scattered dishes, bring them to the counter by the wash tub. When he turned to get one more plate, he was startled to find Julian standing just behind him.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you… Elim,” he apologized.

“I admire your stealth.” He took the plate, which Julian had evidently brought to him. “Thank you.”

Garak had turned back to the wash tub when he felt a warm hand on his right shoulder. 

“May I ask you another question, Elim?”

“Are you going to use my name in every sentence now?” 

“Maybe.” Julian prodded Garak to turn around. “But back to the question. I was wondering… could I kiss you?”

As Julian placed his other hand on Garak’s left shoulder. “I’d really like to, Elim, but only if it’s OK with you.”

With the doctor’s hands on his shoulders and his name on his lips and the prospect of a kiss, Garak felt a little dizzy. But was he afraid? No, not really.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you since that first time in your mist bath,” he confessed. 

Julian grinned. “I remember that day well. Now… tell me, yes or no?”

Rather than answer, Garak leaned forward and met the human’s lips. 

Julian squeezed Garak’s shoulders as their lips locked together. Garak could taste a trace of the pudding on the doctor’s lips, which were smooth and soft. 

The kiss didn’t last long, not like the kisses in some holofilms he’d seen, but long enough for Garak to decide it wasn’t something he minded. Not with Julian.

“I take that as your answer?” the doctor teased.

Garak kissed him on the cheek. “Yes.”

* * *

Julian didn’t overdo it with the kisses. While they happened every time they met — in private —the doctor always asked first. 

Garak didn’t ask. And Julian didn’t seem bothered by it. 

And why should he ask? Garak hadn’t promised anything physical. Quite the opposite. So if he enjoyed giving a little bit, it was only a bonus.

Then there was the cuddling. That was his own initiative entirely.  Seated together so often in cramped quarters — on his sofa, in the space under the mister — it only made sense to give up on avoiding touch.

Things were much easier when Garak put his arm around Julian’s back. He liked the warmth and the way Julian relaxed against him. For his part, the doctor seemed fascinating by Garak’s hands, clasping them often. He didn’t interlock their fingers, as Cardassians did to express intimacy, but it was close enough to be an appropriate approximation. Because they were not going to have sex. They were _not_.  

Although Garak did wonder. Again. Was he leading Julian on?

After several weeks of cuddling and kissing, Garak couldn’t help but express his niggling anxiety.

“There's something I’ve been wanting to ask you,” he began.

Julian recognized his own words from weeks earlier. “We’ve already established that we can use one another’s first names. And that we both like kissing.”

 “Yes. My question is…”

_How do I phrase it?_

“My question is whether this is _enough_ for you? I feel rather… I mean, is this working out for you?”

Naturally Julian leaned over and kissed him full on the lips. “I thought that was obvious.”

How to explain his worries? He wasn’t uncomfortable himself, but he didn’t know what Julian felt in turn.

“Elim, I told you before and I meant it,” Julian assured. “I’m fine. This relationship is the best I’ve ever had. Far better.”

“Even without sex?”

Julian nodded. “I think especially because of that. And something else.” He took Garak’s hands. “What matters most to me, what I treasure, is that both of us can be open and honest now. No more hiding — for me that means my genetic status. You are who you are, and I’m who I am. I love the honesty.”

Garak chuckled. “Given how often you’ve accused me of lying, that was always clear.”

“‘Especially the lies…’” Julian quoted. 

“Well, it is true. I—”Garak gulped. “I love you.”

There was nothing to do but to embrace. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Re kissing, personally I find them kind of gross, if they're on the lips. It's been a long time, but I remember in college and in my early 20s when I would mess around a bit, I would always think "This is so slimy" and "What a weird thing to do" when I was kissing. I mean... that should've been a clue I'm mainly asexual, right? I love to kiss and suck other parts of the body, but mouths are too much like, I don't know, warm fish :) But most people enjoy them, I guess? So I had Garak enjoy them.
> 
> Re Azar's, I realized tonight that the name comes from a shady-ass package store in an area of Atlanta that used to be really trash but is now gentrified. I'm pretty sure it was demolished for a condo. But it had a red neon sign I saw for years and it apparently imprinted on my brain.


	8. Taking a Chance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having become more intimate, but without sex, Garak is worried that Julian is secretly unhappy. Why can’t Garak to believe him? But Garak persists, which leads to a surprising revelation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me OVER A MONTH to get this next chapter posted. I went on vacation, got busy, had other projects… blah blah blah. Every time I had decided I was going to write, the moment wasn’t right.
> 
> Thank you to all who've been commenting and who’ve been so patient.

Over the next several weeks, their relationship solidified even more.  Except for nights when one of them had work commitments, it was rare a day that they didn’t see one another.

Garak came by the hospital often enough that Julian’s coworkers recognized him — and recognized their relationship. The same was true in Garak’s office.  

Having never been in a real relationship before, Garak for the first time got to experience what it was like to be part of a couple. If he showed up somewhere on his own, people would look for Julian. And they asked questions about him — how he was doing, where was he, etc. This was all very usual social conversation among Cardassians, but such exchanges had never involved him before, and so it remained a novelty for quite some time. 

Something that didn’t change, however, was the niggling worry that Julian wasn’t _truly_ satisfied with their relationship. Garak had not brought up the topic again, once the doctor had reassured him several times, but it often came up in his mind. He was happy with the way things were, the cuddling and kissing and talking and being together, but could that really be enough for Julian, a young man with normal sexual desires? The man certainly seemed content, but again, this was the man who has concealed a key part of his past for half his life. He knew how to deceive. 

* * *

It was towards the end of summer that Garak finally brought up his concern, which wasn’t going away. Especially not when Julian was standing right next to him under the mister, the shape of his briefs making it quite clear he was sexually aroused. 

Julian noticed him noticing. 

“Elim, it’s alright if you want to ask questions, or say something,” he prompted. “I’ve noticed lately a look in your eyes that tells me there’s something that’s bothering you.”

“Am I that transparent?” 

“Not at all. I’m just very good at reading you. So what is it?”

He took one of Julian’s hands in his. That was usually the doctor’s move. For Garak, it was a gesture of trust. 

“I promised myself I wasn’t going to bring it up again, but it’s still bothering me,” he admitted. 

Julian switched the positions of their hands so he now squeezed Garak’s. “I assume you mean you’re worried that I can’t be _truly_ satisfied with this relationship because I’m not having sex.”

When Garak didn’t reply, the doctor continued. “I’ve told you several times now.  I even explained that it’s our intimacy and honesty that I value most — more than sex.  Why don’t you believe me?”

That was a good question. He trusted Julian more than he had ever trusted anyone, but when it came to this, he was insecure. 

He then happened to glance down and one explanation sprang to mind. 

“Well, what about that?” he asked, eyes on the human’s groin. “Doesn’t it bother when that happens and there’s nothing to be done about it?”

Julian chuckled. “Nothing to be done?” He released Garak’s hand and touched himself lightly. “I can assure you I’ve been doing something about it.”

Garak’s thoughts came to a screeching halt. What? Julian was having sex... with someone else? How could he have—

And then it hit him.

“Oh,” he huffed. “ _That_. I’d forgotten about that.”

“Forgotten?”

“Self-pleasuring. Masturbation.”

Julian’s brows briefly creased. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard the Cardassian word for it, but the meaning is clear — reflexive.”

“It’s not something that normally comes up in conversation or in the reading you and I do,” Garak conceded. “And you certainly wouldn’t have heard it from me.”

“True. But, wait, back to what you were saying. You _forgot_ about masturbation?”

_Are we really having this conversation?_ Indeed, they were. 

“The other boys, young men, at the academy I attended, did it. I heard them in the barracks we shared.” He thought back to that time. “It was usually after dark, lights out, but a few times I caught classmates in the shower.”

Julian nodded. “Sounds like Cardassian teens are a lot like Human teens,” he remarked, smiling. 

“That may be, but I never really understood it,” he explained. “The urge behind it. I felt they were wasting time and energy better used practicing our physical disciplines or studying. Or just plain reading a good book.”

Just then the mister ran out of water. Julian walked over to the table where he had put a towel. 

“That all makes sense, Garak. You’re asexual and those urges wouldn’t have connected with you. And you had no one to talk to about it.”

That was certainly accurate. At times he had thought the other boys were pranking him, pretending to do something they weren’t. He had heard of self-pleasure prior to school, but he had thought that was something only a few people did, not everyone. The same went for sex. It was a couple of years after graduation before he accepted the truth. This was around the same time began to grasp what was “wrong” with him. 

Several seconds had passed while Garak processed this, and meanwhile Julian was pouring out two glasses of water.

“Come on out and have some,” he said. 

As they both stood at the table sipping water, Julian reached out for another hand squeeze.

“So in conclusion, I’d like to assure you that I’m fine. I can manage on my own.”

Garak finished half his glass before he replied. “Alright, I believe you, and I’ll try to stop obsessing.” 

Later, as he left for home, he offered Julian one of his long kisses. They both enjoyed it. 

* * *

After that day, Garak developed a new interest: masturbation. 

Not that he had ever been particularly interested in engaging in the act himself, but it seemed it was a concept meriting some consideration.

Julian was using it as a means to achieve the sexual release he wasn’t finding within their relationship. He insisted this arrangement was perfectly fine with him, and while Garak had his doubts, he remembered how Julian had repeatedly said honesty was a top priority for him. If that was so, would Julian really lie about such a thing? 

As for himself, he hadn’t _forgotten_ masturbation, but wasn’t something he’d ever thought about much. Yes, he had briefly engaged in it as a younger man, in an experimental fashion, but it had never really felt right. The lack of any specific sexual interest was likely a factor. More so was the fact that his upbringing forbade indulgence in general — in Tain’s world, there was no room for sentiment or major distractions. The health and order of Cardassia and its empire took precedence.

Garak’s experience with pleasure was also tinged by his years living with the implant. When pleasure came from pain, or even just from the irritation and anger of living in exile, what was the point of finding it another way? Especially since his youthful “experiments” hadn’t been particularly successful. Turning up the implant delivered quite the rush.

After some consideration, Garak concluded that one day, he’d give it another try, but for now, he didn’t feel quite ready. He had never been one to rush into things.

There was, however, something else he _would_ like to try. 

* * *

They were in the mister when Garak made his move. They were on a narrow bench, both stripped down to their shorts. As had to become the norm, they were relaxed with one another, their shoulders touching. When they have first sat down, they had chatted for a bit, but then that had trailed off. It had been a long day for both of them, and they were content to simply sit and enjoy one another’s company.

At least they were at first. Then, judging the moment, Garak decided that if he was going to make his move, this was an ideal opportunity. So after taking in the shining, wet lines of Julian's torso and clearly interested cock, Garak placed his hand on the man’s thigh.

"I was wondering, Julian, if you would permit me something. It's something I've been wanting to ask for but until recently wasn't sure I wanted.”

Julian placed his hand on Garak's. “Would I _permit_ you? That depends on what it is.”

Garak decided to go for bold. A timid approach was less likely to work.

"I was wondering if you'd permit me the pleasure of sucking you off?” 

Julian leaned away and looked straight into Garak's eyes. "That's the last thing I expected you to say.” 

“Is the offer welcome? I have considered it and I am happy to.”

Julian bit his lip. “Yes, it's welcome... but I'm not sure I understand. I wouldn't think you'd enjoy it.”

“But _you_ would,” Garak said softly. He slid his hand from thigh to groin. 

“You don’t have to do this, Elim. I… really, don’t do it if you don’t—”

Garak dropped down to his knees. “My dear, please do be quiet.”

And just like that, he commenced in a sex act he’d had to research in advance — the Federation made access such things easy — and wonder of wonders, it was enjoyable. For both of them.

From Julian came groans and whimpers. He pulled and stroked Garak’s hair, caressed his shoulders, then finally leaned back on the bench, bracing himself with his arms to either side.

Garak meanwhile wasn’t at all put off by what he was doing, but rather found it fascinating. He had always aimed for excellence in all his endeavors and from Julian’s reactions, he had mastered this art on the first try. And knowing he was pleasing Julian was its own reward.

When after a few minutes Julian climaxed, Garak avoided swallowing it down, instead urging the doctor to aim for his chest. The one might be neater, but the concept of it was mildly repulsive. Julian didn’t seem to mind either way.

“Hell, Elim, that was unbelievable,” Julian breathed.

He fought not to smirk. “Well, I’m glad you liked it.”

Julian laughed and ruffled Garak’s hair. “Liked it? I loved it!” His face grew more thoughtful. “This was your first time doing this, I assume.”

Garak nodded.

“And… it was all right?”

“Did it seem like it wasn’t?”

“No, but I have to check.”

Garak sighed. “No worries. In fact, if you want to continue on the bed afterward, I’m quite amenable.”

“So am I. Only I do need a bit of a rest first!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I found this chapter rather daunting to write. I knew what I wanted to happen, but then as I wrote it, I had to step back and consider things realistically. Sure, I wanted certain things, but would that be in character? I ended up navigating that carefully. To be honest, I’m not sure I got it right.


	9. Surprise Gift

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally we come to the end! 
> 
> It's rather short, but it's a bookend to the first scene, so no reason for it to be drawn out.
> 
> Thanks for all the many kudos and comments.

Two years later, it was early spring and Garak and Julian were sitting together under the mister.  It was an improved version of the device Julian had created at his housing block. With help from Miles and a replicator, plus a loosening of water rations, the couple could now enjoyed more time under the water than ever before.

Their sessions under the mister had continued to be an important part of their relationship.

By returning again and again to the same situation, Garak had not only become used to sharing body space, but to intimate contact. Julian was quite fond of holding his partner’s hands, while Garak had become expert at delivering pleasure to Julian while kneeling on the wet floor. That wasn’t something that happened every time, not by a long shot, but Garak was now completely sure that Julian was satisfied.

Comfortable and knowing time in the mister was three quarters through, Garak decided the time was right for a conversation he’d meant to initiate many times.

“There’s something I wish to inform you of, doctor.”

“Oh?” Julian turned slightly toward him on the bench. “Is there an update on your planting schedule?”

“No.”

“Have you designed a new outfit for me?”

“No.”

Julian reached out and took one of Garak’s hands. “Is it a confession then?”

“Yes.” Garak looked down at their joined list hand. “How did you guess?”

“The other things you would’ve just told me.” 

Garak felt fidgety, like he wanted to stand up and face Julian that way, but he forced himself to stay where he was.

“To start again, there’s something I wish to inform you.” He clenched and unclenched his free hand.

This time Julian remained quiet.

“In the time we’ve been together, I’ve become comfortable with some sexual activities.”

Julian squeezed his hand. “And I’m happy with that, since you seem happy with it.”

“Yes, I am.”

That was the truth. Julian had never asked Garak to do anything; everything he did was his own choice and initiative. Julian has suggested a few things, but if his partner didn’t seem interested, he didn’t press.

“Well, lately... I must confess I’ve been engaging in some sexual activity... _with myself_.”

Julian’s eyes widened, but he didn’t interrupt.

“I wanted to see how it was now, years after last time.”

Still Julian didn’t press.

“It turns out it was less disagreeable than I remembered.” He shrugged. “And I’m getting better at it.”

Julian looked ready to say something, but before he could speak, Garak continued.

“I’m not trying to give you false hope, Julian.  Only to let you know that you’ve opened my mind up a bit.”

“It feels a bit like you’re giving me a surprise present.”

“Does it?” Garak slid down to his knees, facing Julian. “Well, that wasn’t my intention, I’m simply keeping you informed. But if you’d indeed like a present I can give you a real one now...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be an Afterward / Author's Notes chapter after this, with background on asexuality and my own experience.


	10. Asexuality: My Story, Facts, and Resources

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After receiving so many comments from readers who remarked on the asexual representation in this story, I realized it would be worth it to offer up some resources and background to people who were following the story. Some people wrote in that they were wondering if they were asexual and saw themselves in Garak. Others said they didn't know a lot about the topic and that they were learning something. Others were just like "That's me!" So I decided that with a "captive" audience of people who have been reading the story and/or get notifications of updates, I might as well do some educating. There are lots of resources out there, but I figured this might be an entry point for a few people, so why not? The writing might not be very polished, as I basically dictated most of it into my computer ad libbed, but it gets across what I want to say. (I'll fix typos later, hopefully...)

I’ve been asexual my entire life but it took until I was in my late 30s / early 40s to realize it and accept it. This late realization is I think fairly typical of asexuals, and given the misunderstanding and prejudice re asexuality, it’s really not surprising. Read on to get my own story, plus facts, myths, and resources.

## My Story (in Brief)

Earlier when I starting writing this "afterward" I wrote out my story in a way that was _way_ too detailed, to the point I wasn't going to be able to get this thing posted because I would never finish the story. So I'll make this pretty brief:

I was in my late 30s when the light bulb finally went on. Prior to that I had gone through various phases, starting with not realizing there was anything different about me, then to embracing my sexuality (what I _thought_ it was), to being really frustrated I couldn’t be like other people, to finally thinking I was “broken.”

The way I came to think of it, at the point I felt “broken” is that there was something that everyone has — _most_ everyone — that gets them interested in sex, allows them to hook up with people, allows them to form relationships, allows them to flirt, etc., and I just didn’t have that. I didn’t really have a word for it or understand it as a concept – or realize that it was a normal thing, not something pathological or a medical issue. My good friends sort of joked that I was asexual, but they weren't using it in the proper sense, more like, well, that describes Wendy well -- not sexual. What was wrong with me?

The teenage years are supposed to be a time of raging hormones and kids not being able to stop themselves, or if they stop themselves, then being all tormented about it. It was not like that for me _at all_. I had a lot of _angst_ , but it has nothing to do with dating or wanting some guy who didn't like me or anything like that. I was _totally_ interested in my schoolwork, my hobbies, my obsessions. I had friends, mostly guys in fact, but there was no sexual thing there. Basically, in my mind, teenagers weren't really sexual, they were all _faking it_. I was super well-educated on teenage sex, the problem of teenage pregnancy, people all around were dating, thanks to a super progressive sex and and health program. Despite this, it was "all talk," something only a very small number of teenagers did. Even just dating was "all talk," not "real" dating. I some figured if I personally wasn't interested, then _no one else_ really was. Everyone else was a sort of play acting at being adults, which is true, but not in the way I thought. They were talking about it, but not really doing it. I thought things became more "real" and in college and then maybe in your mid 20s you'd have a serious real relationships and sex. 

Skipping over a whole bunch of stuff to avoid getting too long,I will say that shortly after my high school graduation, I woke up to a couple things. One, I felt _attraction_ for the first time. I had never had any real sexual or romantic attractions, that I recognized. (Looking back, I actually did but didn't recognize them, because it was so flickering. Anyway, that summer, good friend of mine kissed me (in a totally platonic way on her side, trust me) and I suddenly realized that _wow_ , I was having that "thing" other people felt. That tingly feeling! Flustered! I also realized immediately that while the person who kissed me was another woman, I was _bisexual_ and _not_ a lesbian. Gender didn't have much to do with it at all. The second thing that happened that summer, right before college, is that I discovered masturbation. Which I'm not going to go into here but just say it became a hobby and still is.

Again skipping over a whole ton of stuff -- which could make a book -- when I arrived to college, I was ready to explore my sexuality and make up for lost time. I went totally down the "rainbow path" as a lot of young people do when they come out. And got a mega crash course in everything queer, from history to pervy sex to politics to how to do drag. Because I was at a large and super liberal university, I did a lot of things, had a lot of opportunities, that many college kids even now didn't have. I lived in special interest dorm hall for GLBTQ and allies. I wrote for the college paper as the queer issues editor. I took classes in gay history, gay lit, etc. I interned at a alternative newspaper's queer supplement and got credit from my dept. (journalism). I had friends (many were my dorm-mates) who were gay, bi, trans, drag queens, sex fiends, nerds, you name it. I saw a lot of STUFF. (Oh, the stories!) Nevertheless, amidst all of this, I never made the step to dating, having sex, even casual sex. (Exception: I screwed around with my gay best friend. Which was educational in many ways.) My point being, people all around we were doing it, and I just could not seem to make the first step. I dressed flirty and looked flirty, was attractive and had plenty of opportunity. It was that I started to feel like a failure.

After college it was more of the same. I joined a local queer youth groupIn the city I moved to. Again, I had tons of friends and opportunity where I could've hooked up with someone... and just didn't. I would see high school kids in the group meeting and then start dating and become a couple, and could never understand how it was so _easy_ for them. I tried now and then to date, setting up some online dates (all with women, BTW), and so on, but just didn't work for me. 

By the end of my 20s I started to get quite anxious about it. I got panicked by the idea that maybe I was just never going to find anyone, never been relationship, always be alone. I had never wanted kids but yeah, I definitely wasn't going to have kids if I never had sex LOL. Things are "supposed" to happen in a certain way in order in life, but I was just not making that step. I was successful in many other ways -- I bought a condo when I was 24, had a great career, became a published author, etc.., -- but all along I really felt likeI wasIn some respects a failure and a fraud. Just got worse and worse all through my 30s, til eventually I just sort of gave up. There was definitely something wrong with me.

I started to feel uncomfortable at work and with neighbors and friends, because I would see more and more how there was this sort of tacit sexuality going on that I was just not a part of. People were married or people were dating or people were having sex or they were single but they were still _sexual_. And then it was me, and I was totally different, and just felt like a freak. I've never ever thought there was anything wrong with being bisexual and don't have problems with self image generally, but I was mortified by the idea of people realizing that I wasn't "normal." I worried a lot about what they thought of me. People certainly complimented me on my looks and my personality and I got along with people,don't get me wrong, but I kept thinking they must think there's something wrong. Didn't people wonder why I never talked about dating and relationships? When they flirted and I didn't flirt back, how did they explain it? Did they talk about me behind my back?

This thing really clear point when I finally understood what my deal was. I work at a university and the queer resource center advertised they were doing a screening of this movie [(A)sexual](http://wiki.asexuality.org/\(A\)sexual). I must have had some inkling subconsciously that this was something I had to see, because I went out of my way to go after work. It was in a conference room at the student center; like five college students and this staff person in their late 30s. Within a few minutes of watching, all kinds of bells and whistles and alarms started going off. I could identify with everything the main person was talking about and everything the other people said. I just kept thinking "That's me! That's me!" I got more excited as it went on, and I remember I really wanted to start talking about it, but obviously you couldn't talk about until the end. Finally it finished and the moderator, who I think was a staff person, ask us all what we thought about it. The other people liked it and had a few things to say, thoughtful and all, but I was totally boiling over with excitement. I remember telling everyone how much I could relate to all of it. I'm sure I was babbling, as my head was all over the place. 

That was at least five years ago. It was a big turning point for me. After that made a beeline to [AVEN](https://asexuality.org/) and the [AVEN Wiki](http://wiki.asexuality.org), which had been plugged many times in the movie. I started to see everything in my life in a new context. Suddenly everything that hadn't made sense before made sense. And suddenly instead of feeling like I was "broken," I realized that I was _fine_. It was profound thing. It was a coming out really, which is interesting because I accepted immediately that I was bisexual, first time a woman kissed me, but it then took me 20 years to connect more dots. It's hard to learn about something no one talks about! And I can go on about that at length, but let's just say it's a really good thing to finally know what you are. I am open with my sexuality (asexuality), having brought it up on Facebook many times, and a few of my coworkers know, one family member, all my really good friends and all GLBTQ friends. 

## About Asexuality

An asexual person is a person who does not experience sexual attraction or who does not experience sexual attraction to the degree or in the same way that the average person (whatever their sexual orientation) does.

There are a lot of misunderstandings around asexuality as well as many myths, which I will break down below.

One point which I’m getting straight from the [AVEN website*](https://asexuality.org/) is that unlike celibacy, which is a _choice_ to abstain from sexual activity, asexuality is an _intrinsic_ part of who person is, just like any other sexual orientations. Asexuality is not a choice, a defect, or the result of some type of abuse. Asexual people have the same emotional needs as everyone else — saying they don’t “need” people is incorrect — and furthermore are just as capable of forming intimate relationships, albeit without sex or with far less emphasis on it. This isn’t to say that _all_ asexual people have the same needs or _all_ form intimate relationships. But by and large, they are just _people who are asexual_ , and as diverse as people of any other orientation.  
  
_* AVEN: Asexual Visibility and Education Network, the world's largest online asexual community as well as a large archive of resources on asexuality. I have received a huge amount of my basic understanding from AVEN. I have not participated in their community, however._

**The Asexual Spectrum**

Asexuality is not a monolithic, homogenous entity. People fall all over the place on a spectrum depending on various factors, like whether they are absent of _any_ sexual attraction or whether they have _some_.... or whether they are _romantic_ but not _sexual_... or whether they prefer _same-sex_ or _opposite-sex_  or something else.

To illustrate this, here's a diagram I came across that beautifully illustrates all the different variations of human sexuality, taking into account attraction type, orientation type, and relationship type. (I got this from[ this reddit post](https://www.reddit.com/r/polyamory/comments/87tjaf/attraction_layer_cakeposted_in_rbisexual_too/). AVEN also wrote [a good explanation](https://www.asexuality.org/en/topic/122158-new-3d-model-of-asexuality-that-addresses-grays/) of it.)

This for me is much more valuable than the simple 1 to 10 Kinsey score, which is one dimensional. (BTW, for those wondering I’m _Gray4C_ , although for mepicking "relationship" is theoretical.)

If you start getting to know more about asexuality, you will start to hear certain terms come up a lot — ones like _grayromantic_ , _biromantic_ , _antisexual_ , _aromantic_ , etc. These refer to varieties of asexuality. Some people fall under one of them and some under a couple. For example, if you look at the cube above, you will see how an asexual person could be _asexual_  and simultaneously _romantic_ and _bisexual_ , with many other combinations being possible. For a complete breakdown of these identity terms, go to[ the AVEN Wiki main entry on asexuality](http://wiki.asexuality.org/Asexuality) and look under “Identity.” Follow the links and you can explore various different identities and their variations.

Something else that’s key to understanding asexuality is the notion of _attraction_. Generally when people think about "attraction," in the context of human relationships and sexuality, there’s a tactic understanding that something _sexual_ is involved. If a woman says “he’s so _attractive_ ” or someone remarks “there’s an _attraction_ there,” it’s simply "understood" that it’s _sexual_ attraction, meaning one person finds another person sexually attractive and is drawn to them.

However, when you’re talking about asexuality, the term _attraction_ deserves more scrutiny. For the most part, asexual people don’t feel _sexual_ attraction or typical it's not consistent or strong. However _romantic_ attraction is commonly felt by asexual people. _Romantic_ attraction encompasses things like desiring close relationships and bonds or wanting intimacy with people, but _not sex_. There’s another type of attraction which I'd describe as _aesthetic appreciation_ , and that’s for people who are _asexual_ and _aromantic_ but regard people as of aesthetic interest. (I'm like this a lot of the time: See the beauty, zero attraction, either sex.)

One final point I want to make in this oener is that asexual people are not "broken" in terms of their sexual organs, ability to become aroused, etc. _Some_ don’t become aroused, don’t respond well to sex, etc., but that’s true of people of _other_ sexual orientations as well. But an asexual person could, for example masturbate and if they are not averse to the notion of arousal, really enjoy it. (Some asexuals would never masturbate or even think of masturbating because there’s zero interest or they are repulsed by sex. Again: people vary.)

## Myths

Now I’m quickly going to break down some myths.

**"You just need to find the right person..."**

A common hindrance to the understanding of asexuality is the notion that anyone who can’t form relationships, doesn’t like sex, etc, is just _waiting_ for the right person or “The One.” Meeting this person will somehow, eventually flip the switch and make a person feel attraction, make them want to have sex, want them to start dating, etc. (It’s rather similar to the thinking that a lesbian just hasn’t found “the right man.”)

This misunderstanding, this assumption that everyone is meant to pair up and have sex, is harmful both in general and to asexuals themselves. In a general sense, this notion is promoting the notion that people can’t just be truly _single,_ everyone who doesn't pair up is abnormal and weird _._ For any sexual like myself, this idea can lead to the assumption that if you just wait long enough and keep trying, it will happen. And, if it _doesn’t_ happen, it means there’s something wrong with you. (Again, think of a lesbian who believes if she keeps dating men and sleeping with men, she’ll come to like it and will be able to get married. This was pretty much the default until recently and some women obviously are still caught in this trap. Also men, also trans people — all thinking that somehow they’re just not trying hard enough or that they’re defective.)

**"You must have been abused..."**

No. Just no.

**"You're not asexual, you're just ugly...."**

Ha. No.

Relying on a personal anecdote, I am hella attractive, especially when I was in my teens and 20s, but nothing ever happened. People would be attracted to me, yes, but I don’t know what to _do_ with that. I really did not. People would flirt with me so bad or  _pine_ over me and want to do things, but I just _did no_ t. Generally people would figure out over time that it wasn’t going to work and would find someone else. Eventually there just came to be an understanding by everybody that I just wasn't interested. I don't think anyone ehotught "asexual" but they picked up the sense from observing me and interacting. 

**"There must be something wrong..."**

No.

Asexual people have the same sexual equipment and nervous system and everything as other people. _Some_ asexual people do not become aroused or have some type of physical sexual dysfunction, but people are not asexual because their sex organs don’t work. I can tell you, for example, that might work perfectly fine. I just really don’t want to have sex with anyone else.

This is true of psychiatry too. Asexual people aren't messed up, they were simply born asexual. Homosexuality isn't considered a mental condition anymore and for the same reason. Asexual people (me for example) can have other issues, but simply being asexual isn't one of them. 

**"Poor asexuals, they'll always be alone..."**

A lot of people, including admittedly many asexual people, think it’s impossible for an asexual be in a relationship. The understanding behind this is that you can’t have a relationship, like say dating or living together and romance and all that, without having sex. (Unless you are some sort of chaste Christian.)

If an asexual person is in a relationship, however, it doesn’t just have to be a simple "friends who hang out" type of thing. You could have a completely intimate, deep, long-lasting, romantic relationship with someone -- more than one person even -- but there just isn’t sex. Aren't relationships overall made of more than just sex?

As for the orientation of the people in the relationship, two asexuals in a romantic relationship seems like it would be an ideal fit. However, as with this Garak-Bashir story, it's possible for an asexual person and a non-a sexual person (or someone who just has more interest in sex) to be in a relationship. Obviously there is a bunch of negotiation that needs to happen.

From what I have read there or asexual people who will have sex to please their partners or who will pleasure heir partners (as Garak does). Naturally, if the asexual person doesn’t want to participate in  _any_ type of sex and their partner _does_ , there’s a problem. (And non-consenting is not an option.) I suppose an open relationship or non-monogamy of some kind could be a way to work this out. (Again, with safety and communication and consent.) My point is, it's possible. (Go on AVEN, you'll see.)

**"Asexuals have ZERO sexuality or attraction, there's just nothing"**

It's true -- some asexual people have no feelings of sexual attraction or arousal. But there's a whole spectrum as I described above, that refers to people who do have varying degrees of sexual attraction. Gray asexuals, for example, are not entirely uninterested and/or their interest varies.

There’s also the phenomenon of only being sexually interested if you know a person very intimately emotional way. I actually fall into this category. All the people I have developed strong sexual attractions to, including a couple I actually did have sexual relations with, were very close, very intimate friends of long standing.

The major reason I find have always found the notion of flirting and dating to be utterly _baffling_  comes down to this question: How can you possibly know if you want to be sexually intimate with someone if you have just met them or have only met a few times??? Years before I realized I was asexual, I realized that i wouldn't be comfortable even kissing someone until maybe 10 dates. I just don’t know the person well enough. BUT, if I’m friends with a person and hang out with them all the time for a year or if they are my roommate (that happened), then the attraction will come. I think I am turned on by emotional intimacy and also have a strong need for trust.)

**"Asexuals don't belong in queer community!"**

I’m not going to get into a whole thing about the meaning of _queer_ , but in so much as queer stands for being apart from the majority of the cisgender, heterosexual gender/conforming population, asexuals certainly are queer. This is true whether they are completely straight-up asexual or whether they have some sexual attraction or whether they are an asexual with same-gender attraction. By denying asexuals a place in the queer community -- knowing they also are not heterosexual etc. -- you'd basically be leaving them hanging out alone, implying that they have no place in the sexual spectrum or are abnormal. We totally fit. 

## Resources

I mainly have only used the AVEN web site ([asexuality.org](https://asexuality.org/)) and the [AVEN Wiki](http://wiki.asexuality.org) (all things asexual).

As I mentioned in my personal story, seeing the [documentary  _(A)sexual_](http://wiki.asexuality.org/\(A\)sexual) is what finally helped me figure out what the hell was "wrong" with me, i.e. nothing.  It's available on streaming, definitely was on Netflix at some point, and I see you can pay $4 to watch on YouTube.) I'm sure if you want to see it, there's a way to do. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who commented on the story in general and specifically those who mentioned and appreciated the asexuality aspect. I have been wanting to write this story for a long time and honestly didn't know if anyone would be interested in it, like it, etc. It seems to have been more successful than a whole bunch of my more conventional Garashir fics.


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